


Erase My History, (Expo)se Me

by CalamityK, pumpkinpiechey



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: American!Harry, Angst, Coach!Liam, English!Louis, Fluff, M/M, Niall ships them, Teacher AU, Teacher!Harry, The students ship them, There's a pink dry erase marker involved, harry and louis both teach history, ohhhh just read it its cute we promise, teacher!Louis, teacher!Zayn, teacher!niall, there are alot of bad jokes and puns in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-04-06 15:24:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4226994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalamityK/pseuds/CalamityK, https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkinpiechey/pseuds/pumpkinpiechey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i></i><br/>“My hair does not smell like strawberries.”</p><p> </p><p><i>Louis blinks up at Mr. Styles. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this. </i><br/><br/>~~~~~~~~<br/>Or the one where Harry and Louis both teacher history, their students think they should date, and one pink dry-erase marker is trying to ruin their lives (with a little help of course).<br/><br/><a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/4240194">Read The Russian Translation of this fic. Translated by hamfrick</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Erase My History, (Expo)se Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Edandcurly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Edandcurly/gifts).



> This is for the fic exchange!!! We hope its what the prompter wanted! We tried super hard, even though we were a bit presses for time!!!
> 
> Louisa, Kentucky is a very real very shitty town. These characters may be based off the actions of some actual teachers but that's not our story to tell.  
>   
> Thanks to alix for beta-ing this short horrible story. We depend on you, truly.  
> :))

** H **

 

_Mr. Styles wears a wig._

 

Harry stares at the dry erase board in front of him with extreme disdain. He doesn’t know how long the note has been written there. He didn’t check the board when he came in this morning, and his classes are all focusing on readings so he hasn’t written or erased anything on it since yesterday. So he hadn’t noticed anything amiss, but sure enough, right there mixed in with his perfectly written notes on the American Revolutionary war, is the statement: _Mr. Styles wears a wig, it’s just not powdered._

 

If he didn’t know better he’d think one of his students snuck up and wrote it when he stepped out of the room between classes as revenge for assigning them homework three nights in a row, but he knows better. He knows exactly who wrote it, recognizes the sharp lines of the handwriting immediately. It belongs to the same person who has been mixing little insults in with his board notes all year.

 

 _Mr. Tomlinson,_ the uptight-tea-sipping-English-prick from room 113. The transfer World History educator on visa from England, and Harry’s arch-nemesis in the academic teaching world. The man is an over-grown brat. He acts more childish than some of the students they teach, and that’s saying something since they both teach middle schoolers. Eighth Graders mostly, and the only ones who are above age thirteen have been held back a grade. And yet, Mr. Tomlinson somehow manages to act younger than them all.

 

Harry has been telling himself all year that he should just ignore it, or report it to administration. He prides himself on not stooping to the same level and leaving notes back. But, god, it’s getting annoying. He huffs and turns away from the board, leaving the note intact as he rushes out and down the hall to room 113.

 

The door is wide open when he reaches it and Mr. Tomlinson is sitting behind his desk. His feet are propped up as he leans back in his rolling chair, a book on Russia held in front of his face as his eyes dart back and forth over it. It’s after school hours now and he should be here grading papers, not reading leisurely.  He doesn’t even notice Harry standing in the doorway fuming.

 

“Louis.” Harry says flatly.

 

Louis looks up from his book and smiles, “Mr. Styles, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you to see me? Finally ready to pick my brain and learn something about real history?”

 

“All history is real history. I’ve come to ask you-- again-- why you felt the need to leave me a nasty note on my board.”

 

Louis’s smile just widens. “I’ve told you, I’m not the one who keeps doing that. Maybe you should be asking your students.”

 

** L **

 

Louis loves History. He loves hearing about the people that came before him, that left paths for him to walk, and built the cities and civilizations that stand today. He’s passionate about it, and the only thing he’s more passionate about than history is teaching it. He couldn’t wait to get in the classroom and impart knowledge onto today’s youth. The thought of grading papers instead of writing them was the only thing that got him through uni. He wanted to be some esteemed professor at a university in London, or a strict but cool teacher at one of the many English private schools. Places with lustor, places that held a purpose, he wanted to be there among the best educators his country knew.

 

What he didn’t want was to end up shipped off to a tiny, backwoods public school in _America._ No, that was definitely not part of the plan. He’d only even heard of Kentucky because the Queen went there sometimes to watch some horse race or something. It was definitely not on his top-ten list of places he’d like to reside. Imagine his horror when he found out that that’s exactly where he’d be living for the foreseeable future.

 

Thinking about it makes him want to puke on his shoes. He’s settled now, at least, got a nice house in the tiny town of Louisa. If nothing else he can enjoy the fact that the town’s name sounds like his own. He’s officially a teacher there, _Mr. Louis Tomlinson, World History teacher at Louisa Middle School._ What a grand title, he thinks sarcastically. He hopes no one back home ever finds out just how low he’s fallen.

 

America’s education system is horrifying. This school is horrifying. They don’t really care if the kids learn anything, they just pit them all against each other to see who can cheat the best, or memorize the most bullshit and spit it back out on a standardized test booklet. It appalls Louis to his very core. Hell, they even pit the staff against each other. There are around two teachers for every subject, and they have to follow all these little rules and guidelines with their lesson plans. He has to assign homework almost nightly, he has to give them certain information at a certain time, skip over certain things in the text-books that America doesn't deem vital. Then he has to hope and pray they retain all the nonsense he’s spit at them well enough to pass the EOC at the end of the year.

 

The EOC is where the faculty gets screwed. It stands for “end of course exam” which sounds reasonable enough, except it’s full of stuff the kids might not have even paid attention to, and if they score lowly then it’s his ass on the line. Its a competition. A _game_ of who is the best educator. And his opponent is the history teacher in room 116. Who ever’s students score the lowest on the history EOC risks being pink slipped. Which basically means fired and relocated to a different, probably shittier, and definitely more impoverished school. And Louis would do anything to make sure it’s not him, which is why he teaches so passionately.

 

That’s not to say the other history teacher isn’t just as passionate. No, Harry Styles loves his students and his subject. Louis can’t stand him and not just because he’s worthy competition. The man is infuriating. He stomps around, all full-blooded American male, taking advantage of the lax professional dress code for staff, and wearing things like skinny jeans and Green Bay Packer’s jerseys. His hair is to his shoulders and always looking like an unkept mess of brown curls.

 

Unless of course he has it pulled loosely behind his head in a ‘man-bun’ as Louis heard one of the students call it. The girl referred to it as ‘sexy’ and Louis had to strongly disagree. He is currently disagreeing as he watches that man-bun disappear from his classroom doorway.

 

Harry had marched in fuming about a note on his board, mixed in with the notes he writes in red Expo-marker for his students to copy down. Louis had put it there, of course. He doesn’t remember what it said, he just knows it was mildly insulting.

 

It annoys Harry to the max. Honestly Louis started the whole leaving notes thing months ago on accident. He’d snuck in to read Harry’s board notes and maybe one up his teaching techniques, and he’d noticed a line that could have been changed to something funny, a joke. He doesn’t remember what the line was, but he remembers changing it on impulse.

 

It had taken Styles three days to notice, and when he had he’d been furious. Harry had blamed the students of course, tried to get them to confess who did it, punished the entire class with extra homework. The kids hated him for days.

 

So of course Louis did it again, anything that pitted Harry against his students was good for Louis. Even if all the extra homework made some of them learn more. He kept it up a good two weeks before some little brat from Louis’s seventh period had to go and ruin it.

 

The kid asked to use the bathroom, and Louis wrote him a pass and thought nothing of it. Can’t let the students go anywhere without a pass in this place. Unfortunately though, Mr. Styles had been meandering the halls for whatever reason. He’d intercepted the kid to make sure he had a pass.

 

Harry brought the same pass, riddled with Louis’s sloppy handwriting, with him when he marched into Louis’s classroom to confront him the first time. Harry had recognized the thin letters as the same one’s that vandalized his boards. Louis denied it vehemently.

 

But now Harry has quit blaming his students, and Louis is still writing notes just to be annoying. He knows that if Harry Styles were any less of a man he’d report Louis to administration, but Harry’s too good for that. He holds up strong against Louis’s wrath. All Harry does is occasionally confront him for it.

 

Louis likes to think it’s driving Mr. Styles a little insane inside, and maybe, if he keeps it up, Harry will become lax in his teachings because of it. It’s an evil thought, but Louis is determined to keep his job. Even at the cost of villainy.

 

** H **

 

Harry snorts as he enters the small gym and sees his best friend, Liam, sitting on his ass.  Harry visits Liam almost every 7th period during Harry’s free hour for some conversation and a change of scenery.  According to his students, Liam Payne is the best P.E. teacher that Louisa Middle School has ever had.  This of course means he’s the laziest bastard on staff.  Harry has tried many times to get the man to take his kids outside for walks, but Liam just laughs and fiddles with his clipboard, changing the subject.

 

“You know, kids are supposed to actually _move_ in a gym class.” Harry says with a smirk.

 

“I’ll have you know,” Liam says with a mouthful of food, “that these kids were moving non stop before you came in here.”

 

“Normally I would argue, but I have more important things to discuss.”

 

“You’re about to complain about Tomlinson again, aren’t you?” Liam says with mild dread. This isn't the first time.

 

“He’s just so damn annoying!” Harry shouts, but quickly covers his mouth, remembering where he is.  A few kids snicker, but thankfully no more noticed.

 

Liam sighs and shakes his head at his friend.  “Is it still the notes?”

“Yep.  He keeps telling me it’s not him as if I don’t have proof.  ‘Ask your students about it,’ is the only response I ever seem to get from him.”

 

“And have you?” Liam asks. "Asked the students?"

 

Harry’s frown deepens. “Of course I have, and none of them have confessed.  Even they know it’s Louis doing it. He's not exactly subtle.” Harry says. He really can't stand Louis. "I don't know who he thinks he is, walking around in his pressed pants and stupid ties, but if he thinks he can distract me from my job he's dead wrong."

 

Liam’s face contorts into a mischievous grin,"Maybe he thinks you're hot?" Liam says teasingly. "I mean you've got the hots for him, so it's plausible that maybe he has the hots for you too."

 

Harry splutters. "I do not!" He feels face heat a little though, and Liam's grin gets wider. "Shut up, Liam! You're not helping, you're supposed to help me!"

 

“We both know exactly what you should do." Liam says flatly.

 

“And what’s that?” Harry asks sharply.

 

“It’s obvious, man.  Just start writing notes on his board.  Mess up his precious World History notes or something. Give him a taste of his own medicine, but you know, do it Kentucky style.” Liam takes another bite of his food, "Make it a little more targeted and he'll be so pissed he can't see straight. Call him out on being short, or make fun of his accent."

 

Harry thinks on this for a few moments.  It _is_ such an obvious thing to do, but he’s been trying to avoid stooping to Louis’s level.  Louis is such a pretentious ass about his height, even the subtlest of jokes will surely have him out for Harry's head.

 

With an almost giddiness, he thanks Liam and rushes back to his classroom to see when Tomlinson has free hour. Louis won’t know what hit him.

 

** L **

 

“No self respecting man wears his hair in a man-bun!” Louis shouts around a mouthful of chicken salad.

 

It’s been two days since Harry last confronted him, and Louis is eating lunch in his car with Zayn Malik. Zayn is his best friend and Lawrence Co. High School’s Art and Art History teacher. Lucky bastard, Zayn had transferred from the middle school to the all-county High School four months ago. Now, not only did he no longer have to put up with 13 year olds, he was also the only Art teacher on staff. Meaning he isn’t pitted against other staff members in order to keep his job. Louis might resent him a bit for moving up the hill to the dome of slightly-higher education.

 

Almost as if he senses what Louis is thinking, Zayn sits his salad on the dashboard and sighs. “You know you can apply for a job at the high school and be teaching Ancient Civilizations instead. It’s a decent backup if you’re really worried you’ll get pink slipped down there.”

 

“They won’t hire me at the high school if I can’t even get test scores high enough to outdo Styles!” Louis says, swallowing. “Besides, I got rejected there before I even accepted the job at the bloody middle school.”

 

“Whatever.” Zayn says, leaning his seat back and propping his feet up beside his salad. “I think you’ve just got a big dopey crush on Harry, really. I don’t think this is about the score cards at the end of the year at all.”

 

Louis squawks and a bit of chicken salad hits the windshield and sticks. “I do not!”

 

Right then the back car door clicks open as someone gets in. “You don’t what?”

 

Louis turns in his seat to face the intruder, who is really just Niall Horan, the Home Ec teacher and Zayn's loud, blonde boyfriend, joining them for lunch. He’s got a burger that’s already half eaten in his hand, and a bit of sauce around his mouth. Louis watches him take a large bite with disgust. “I don’t have a _‘big dopey crush_ ' on Harry Styles.”

 

“Oh.” Niall says, and Louis can see every bit of burger he’s chewing. “No, I'd say it's more like a raging hard-on.”

 

Zayn cackles in the passengers seat and Louis turns back to face the steering wheel. “That’s it, both of you can get out of my car and go eat lunch somewhere else.”

 

“Actually, me and Zayn can sit here in your car and finish our lunches, and _you_ can go somewhere else, like maybe to your fifth period.” Niall says calmly. “You’re about five minutes late already.”

 

That can’t be right. Louis frantically gets his cell out of his pocket, trying not to drop the chicken salad container and checks the timestamp. “Shit.”

 

Zayn reaches over and grabs the tupperware lid from the dash, taking the bowl from Louis’s hand and snapping it on. “I’ll lock your car before I walk back up the hill, and we will continue this discussion later.”

 

Louis doesn’t plan on finishing this conversation ever, but he just nods as he gets out, rushing across the parking lot and back into the middle school. He barges into his classroom spewing apologies because his students are already seated, talking amongst themselves and laughing. The laughter picks up as he stumbles behind his desk and grabs his lesson planner out of the desk. They’re probably laughing because this is the third day in a row he’s been late from lunch and god only knows what little jokes they’ve cooked up with their horrid-children imaginations.

 

“Alright class.” He says, thumbing over what's written in his planner. “Today we’re starting The French Revolution.”

 

Luckily the notes for this section are already written on the board behind him where he’d put them this morning. “We’ll be focusing on Napoleon Bonaparte and his rule.” A snicker goes through the students, and Louis ignores it. “Now can anybody tell me the significance of Waterloo?”

 

That sparks the class discussion portion and it continues for a bit, with Louis asking questions and the kids answering. But ripples of laughter run through the kids everytime he mentions Napoleon and he can’t figure out why.

 

Until he turns to the board notes and sees what’s so funny. Right there in the middle of his blue notes is the section he wrote on Napoleon. When he wrote it, it read, ‘Napoleon Bonaparte was around five feet six inches tall, which was considered short in this time period.’

 

Now it reads: ‘Napoleon Bonaparte was around five feet six inches tall, which was considered short in this time period. _Mr. Tomlinson is about that height, and it’s still considered pretty short today_.’ The extra sentence is written in red loopy font and Louis feels his ears turn color to match it. He’s fuming.

 

He whirls back to face his students. “Who wrote this?” a few snickers is all he gets in response to the demand. “Well, I guess until someone is willing to come forward and say who did it, you can all do the extra exercises in chapter four tonight and turn them in tomorrow." He spits. A few of his students have the decency to look scolded.

 

It’s not until the groaning children are packed up and class has been dismissed that it dawns on Louis that the most likely suspect isn’t a student at all.

 

** H **

 

Harry is sitting in his chair, patiently waiting to see Louis’s red face burst through the door.  He doesn’t wait long, as it only takes two minutes after school is let out for Louis to barge into his room squalling.

 

“You absolute git!  What makes you think you can mess with my board?”

 

“The same thing that makes you think you can mess with mine. Don’t even bother denying it anymore.” Harry says smugly.

 

“You’re just lucky I haven’t reported you to administration.”

 

“Right, what would you tell them?  That after _you_ began writing on my board, I decided to get back at you on your board?  I don’t think I would be the only one to get written up.”  Harry says with a scowl.

 

Harry watches as Louis tries to think of a retort, but he knows he’s right.  It’s also too late for him to report Louis.  But he doesn’t plan on stopping until Louis does, and Louis definitely won’t stop now that he’s pissed.  As Louis leaves the room, Harry prepares himself for war.

 

It’s a week of waiting after that, at least for Harry. He sneaks two misplaced jokes about the queen and one jab at Louis’s accent onto the board in 116 before Louis finally retaliates. It’s such a small thing, so inconspicuous he barely sees it at first.  

 

They’re discussing flags in his class currently, which involves their colors and countries of origin. Harry’s pointing to his notes and telling his students they’re going to have to memorize the colors as well as the names, when someone in the front row starts giggling. Harry turns and checks his notes for anything done by Louis, but he doesn’t see anything wrong.

 

The giggles spread as he lectures, and when he turns back to point at the british flag he finally notices. It’s subtle, very subtle. It seems a few of the words on his board bear a few unnecessary u’s. Most noticeably the word ‘colors’ has been changed to ‘colours’.

 

He feels the tips of his ears heat, but he takes a deep breath and turns back to his students. He’s going to finish this lecture like nothing's even wrong. It takes his best effort because the kids notice, he knows they’ve been noticing his and Louis’s war for days. It’s really getting out of hand.

 

As soon as the bell rings at the end of last class he’s out the door. His ears are still red as he stands outside Louis’s class and lets the students file out. When the room is completely empty he steps in and shuts the door behind him. “This has to stop.We should be acting like adults, and we’re not. I never should have stooped to your level. We need to stop, Louis, before it affects our teaching.”

 

To Harry’s surprise Louis just looks up from where he’s sitting and nods. “We really do.”  Harry feels his mouth gape a little but Louis continues. “My students have noticed.”

 

Harry clamps his jaw shut and takes a deep breath. “Yeah, mine too. We need to stop for their sake, it’s not healthy if they start thinking two of their teachers hate each other.”

 

Louis frowns and Harry notices that he looks a little flustered. “They don’t think we hate each other.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“Robbie Fowler and Jessica Daniels were passing a note in my fifth period. So I took it. I’ll let you read what it says.” Louis says as he shuffles through his top desk drawer and offers Harry a blue slip of paper.

 

Harry takes it and scans the sloppy handwriting of both students and he feels his eyes widen in shock and panic. It reads:

 

_Mr. Tomlinson is totally doing the nasty with Mr. Styles. Tell me you see it._

_ Oh i see it, i hope they go at it so hard that they’re unable to give us the EOC.  _

_Ha! I doubt the boning is that good, they still walk around like they hate each other._

_ They hate us not each other. Emily said Styles’s homework is just as hard as what we get. _

_They probably plan it together. Do they honestly think we haven’t noticed them flirting? This note war makes it soooo obvious._

 

There’s more but Harry stops reading and looks back up at Louis, spluttering. “They think we’re together?!”

 

Louis nods. “Though as you can see ‘together’ isn’t the only terminology they used. Thirteen year olds think they know more than they do, these days.” Louis looks mildly disgusted and Harry feels something twist in his stomach. “Especially if they think I’d ever fancy you.”

 

Harry crushes the feeling of disappointment that’s settling in his chest and snorts. “Yeah, our students should know that I would never be with such an arrogant twat.”

 

He turns and storms out, thinking that he sees a look of hurt flash on Louis’s face. He can’t wait to tell Liam about this.

 

** L **

 

It takes almost all of Louis’s resolve to stop writing mean things on Harry’s board. Especially now that he knows what Harry really thinks about him. It’s been two weeks and he’s sure Zayn and Niall are one hundred percent done hearing him whine. During their last conversation, Niall-- the traitor-- had to point out that technically Louis insulted Harry first, and that technically he’s the one who started all of this. Zayn of course agreed with his boyfriend and added that, maybe, if Louis would’ve just asked Harry out instead of starting an insult war, then a lot of things could have gone differently. For example, Harry might not find him to be such an arrogant twat. His friends are so kind.

 

Louis is eating a sandwich in the teacher’s lounge for once in order to avoid both of them. It’s not really working in his favor though because the lazy gym teacher-- and Harry’s best friend-- Liam Payne, keeps staring at him and smirking like he knows something Louis doesn’t. Louis supposes he probably does, but it’s still quite unnerving. He swallows the last bit of his ham and cheese and gets up to leave.

 

He still has thirty minutes before his next class so he figures he can just go over his lesson plans before that and see if there’s anything he should rework. Indeed there is a spot where he could change today’s notes and add in a bit more material. He turns to his board and grabs his blue Expo-marker without looking, still gazing at the lesson planner in his hands.

 

He uncaps the marker with his mouth. When he looks up to start changing the notes he almost chokes on the lid that’s still between his teeth.  In the middle of his board-- in a handwriting that’s definitely not Harry’s-- it reads: ‘ _Mr. Styles thinks Mr. Tomlinson has a nice ass.’_ in loopy pink font.

 

Before he even realizes it he’s halfway to Harry’s classroom, planner still in hand. In the middle of his frantic shuffle to room 113, he runs straight into the man himself, who was hurrying the opposite direction in the hallway toward Louis’s room. Harry looks down at him startled as they step back from each other and Louis’s sure his own expression matches. Then they both open their mouths to speak at the same time.

 

“Do you think I have a nice ass?”

 

“My hair does _not_ smell like strawberries.”

 

Louis blinks up at Harry a moment. “I never said your hair smells like strawberries. How would I even know that?” Harry’s hair does smell like strawberries, Harry himself smells like strawberries, everyone who’s been within three feet of him knows this.

 

Harry’s eyebrows come together in confusion and somehow also manage to convey shock. “What do you mean do I like your ass?”

 

Louis shuffles his feet a bit and closes the planner that’s still in his hands. “It seems that someone has written a note on my board about you liking my ass.”

 

Harry blinks and clears his throat. “Someone wrote on mine that you like the way my hair smells like strawberries.”

 

“Was it by chance written in bubblegum pink Expo-marker?”

 

Harry nods. “Do you think it’s one of those students that wrote the note?”

 

Louis shakes his head. “It’s not the same writing, but it could be a different student.”

 

“Well we need to figure out who it is before they get us in trouble for sexually harassing each other.” Harry says.

 

** H **

 

It’s been three days and they can’t figure out who’s doing it. Every time Harry erases one pink compliment it seems like another one appears the next time he leaves the room. Louis’s having the same issue as far as he can tell. They’ve both questioned the students and other than a chorus of giggles, and some weird response about ‘shipping’ they’ve both gotten no clear answers.

 

Harry’s currently sitting in the gym with Liam filling him in on what’s been happening. “Li, I swear our own students are out to get us. We had just reached an agreement to leave each other alone and now someone else is making it worse.”

 

Liam laughs. “Sounds to me like someone is just trying to get you both to admit you like each other.”

 

Harry glares at him, but before he can speak he sees Mr. Niall Horan from Home Ec-- and Louis’s friend circle-- walking toward them. The blonde rushes over, smiling, and plops down right beside Liam like it’s normal. “Hey boys, what’s up?”

 

“Nothing.” Harry says right as Liam turns to Niall and smirks.

 

“Harry here is telling me all about this problem he seems to be having. It seems some student keeps writing on his board with a pink marker and messing with his notes.”

 

Niall and Liam share a look that Harry doesn’t understand at all and then Niall turns to address Harry. “Tommo’s been complaining to me and Zayn about the same kind of problem. Says someone keeps complimenting him in the guise of it coming from another teacher.”

 

Harry just nods. “Y-yeah. That’s happening to both of us. We’ve been trying to figure out who’s doing it. So far the only thing we’ve discovered is that we hate each other.”

 

Liam clears his throat a bit like he wants to laugh again. “I told Harry it seems like a harmless prank. We’re coming up on time for the EOC testing and the kids need some amusement. I figure if they leave it alone the kid will probably stop on their own. What do you think?” Liam says giving Niall a somewhat pointed look.

 

Niall just smirks back and addresses Harry again. “Seems to me like someone is trying to get you and Tommo together.”

 

Harry gasps. “No! Liam said the same thing and just... _No!_ ”

 

Niall and Liam both laugh.

 

“Seems plausible to me.” Niall says, sharing yet another secret look with Liam.

 

Harry shakes his head and gets up, leaving Liam and Mr. Horan to continue their weird exchange. “I don’t think so. Besides, Louis hates me. And I’m not too fond of him either.”

 

** L **

 

Louis has this weird niggling feeling in the back of his mind that he’s seen this handwriting before. He’s been going through the old graded papers for all of his classes, but so far not one single student matches. He knows he’s seen it, but he can’t seem to pinpoint _where._

 

The message today isn’t another mysterious compliment, thankfully. It’s not even a message really, it’s just a word. Written in big pink letters all the way across the blank half of his board is the word, “Dates!!!” complete with the three exclamation points. He has no idea what the point of that is, other than to be cryptic. He figures whoever is behind this is definitely the type to try and be cryptic. He just hopes he can figure out who it is before testing starts. He doesn’t need this added stress on top of trying to out score Harry. That depends more on his students anyway, but it’s still stressful.

 

He’s staring at the big-pink-word-of-doom when Harry bursts through his door. The other history teacher is flushed and he looks flustered. Harry’s wearing a hideous button down with flamingoes all over it and his stupid hair is falling out of his man-bun a bit, like it got jostled as he ran to Louis’s classroom.

 

Harry looks at the word on Louis’s board and his eyes widen. He fixes his gaze back on Louis and pants. “You’re a self-centered, English asshole. You’ve been nothing but a pain in my ass this entire year!”

 

Louis blinks as he registers the sudden hate. He feels his face heat with rage and a little bit of hurt. “What on earth?! Where did that even come from?! _I’ve_ been a pain in _your_ ass. Really? You and your stupid-American-know-it-all attitude are probably the reason I’ll be getting pink slipped at the end of the year!”

 

Harry takes a few steps toward Louis. “ _You’re_ the one who’s going to get _me_ pink slipped. Walking around all high and mighty, distracting me by messing with my notes, and charming your students into liking you by wearing suspenders and telling them you know the Queen! I wish you’d never came here.”

 

Louis grits his teeth and steps closer to Harry, pointing a finger at him. “You’re a thoroughbred wanker! You think I wanted to be in your hick-town?”

 

“Then quit and go home!”

 

Louis gasps. “You’re such a fucking twat!”

 

“At least I’m tall enough to reach the top shelf!”

 

“At least I don’t smell like a fruit market!” Louis spits.

 

“Your suits suck!” Harry counters.

 

“You dress like a farmer!”

 

“Asshole!”

 

“Hillbilly!”

 

They’ve been stepping closer with each insult and the space between them has shrunk to nothing. Louis is almost nose to nose with Harry as he spits the last insult. He gets a close up view of Harry’s firm jaw as it clenches. The taller man lets out a sound close to a growl as he grabs Louis’s face between his two giant hands.

 

Before Louis can even flinch there’s a mouth pressing hard against his and he gasps. Harry takes the opportunity to lick into Louis’s mouth. Louis dissolves. In the back of his head he’s appalled at how easily he gives in, so he fists both hands in Harry’s hideous shirt and lashes back with his own tongue.

 

The kiss is heated, its angry, it’s perfect. It’s like all the tension that’s been building between them for weeks is rushing out in torrents. Louis’s body is wound tight like a guitar string as Harry pushes them backwards toward Louis’s desk. They crash into it and Louis hears papers scatter to the floor but their mouths don’t even separate. Harry’s hands roam down Louis’s body from his neck to his bum, where they squeeze. The movement presses Louis closer to Harry and he wraps his arms around Harry’s neck and tugs. He lets out a small moan as their bodies collide.

 

The echo of the noise in the empty classroom is what breaks him out of the moment. He jerks back from Harry and pushes the other teacher off of him. “We’re in a school for christ’s sake, get off me!”

 

Harry stumbles back looking a bit stunned, and Louis can see where his pupils are blown wide and his lips are puffy and slick. “Schools over for the day.” Harry says slowly, his voice even deeper than usual.

 

“So?” Louis says, not really knowing what to say next.

 

Harry lunges back at him, and locks their mouths back together. Louis struggles for a second remembering that they _were_ just hurling insults at each other, but this time Harry is kissing him softly and he melts right back into it.

 

It’s a good few minutes before they break apart again, this time for air. Harry runs a thumb along Louis’s jaw and sighs. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

 

Louis blinks, still feeling the heat between them. “What did your board say?” He asks suddenly, remembering why Harry had ran in here in the first place.

 

Harry blinks and pulls back a bit more, dropping his hand from Louis’s face and clearing his throat a bit awkwardly. “Um… It said, ‘What happens when history teachers get together?’”

 

Louis let’s that filter through the cloud of lust that’s fogging up his forebrain then looks at his own board where ‘Dates!!!’ is so plainly written. He can’t help it, he starts laughing.

 

Harry looks at it too, with a lot less panic than he had when he first came in the room. Louis notices him smile slowly. “I think we might have messed with each other so much that someone fell under the impression that we like each other.”

 

Louis lets his laughter trickle off. “I think that someone wants us to go on a date.”

 

Harry turns his smile toward Louis. “Maybe we should.”

 

** ~N~ **

 

Everyone gathers in the gym on the day test scores come out. The students get to play games and chat among themselves since their individual scores will be mailed to them. There are envelopes with the overall result being handed out to individual teachers, and the ones who don’t have to worry about testing in their subjects get to sit back and watch the rest of the faculty sweat nervously.

 

Which is precisely what Liam and Niall are doing. They’re sitting in the same spot Harry and Liam usually sit to gossip, and they watch as Harry and Louis shuffle their feet nervously. Both history teachers have their envelopes in hand, but neither looks very excited to open it.

 

“Which one do you think’s getting pink slipped?” Liam asks.

 

“Neither of them.” Niall replies, leaning back. “I peaked at everyone’s score sheets before the office lady put them in the envelopes. They’re scores are tied.”

 

“No way.” Liam says.

 

Sure enough an excited whoop comes from the direction of Louis and Harry, drawing everyone in the gym’s attention. Harry’s got a fist in the air and a look of victory on his face. Louis does too and he’s waving his paper around excitedly in front of Harry’s face. “We tied! We’re not getting fired!”

 

Niall watches as Harry grabs up the tiny englishman in a hug, and cheers erupt from the students when Louis brings their lips together in a chaste kiss. Right in front of everyone.

 

“Wow.” Liam says, “Took them long enough.”

 

Niall laughs and digs around in his pocket. “They had a bit of a nudge in the right direction though didn’t they.” He says as he waves around a pink Expo-marker.

 

Liam laughs. “I forgot to ask when we started, but why a pink marker?”

 

Niall just shrugs. “I teach Home Ec, all I have are pink markers.”

 

Liam looks back to the happy couple, only to see them sneaking out the side door hand in hand. “Do you think they’ll figure out it was us?”

 

Niall’s eyes drift to where Harry and Louis just disappeared. “I think they’ll be a bit too busy dating to even worry about it.”

 

He can’t wait to tell Zayn their scheme worked.

 

 _FIN._  


**Author's Note:**

> We tried. Thanks for reading! Find us at [Bumstagram](bumstagram.tumblr.com) & [Suspiciousbuttons](suspiciousbuttons.tumblr.com)


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